Too Young to be Old
by Katie Monster
Summary: She's a drinker. She's a smoker. She has too many flaws to be considered human. But maybe, if someone helped her, she could become something more. MoJo
1. Hangover

Hello lovelies. This is my first RENT fic, inspired by my undying love for Idina Menzel. I mean, how much awesome could one person be blessed with? It hardly seems fair to the rest of us. Not that the rest of the cast isn't totally cool too…but that's a whole other can of worms, as they say. So please, enjoy…and review!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the characters that haven't ever appeared in RENT.

* * *

Light streamed into the room, passing through the aging blinds as though they were transparent. Day was beginning in Alphabet City, and slowly but surely sunlight peaked in through the dirt-engrained windows. It lit up the room, showing the dirt and grime and the dust specks floating through the air at their own pace. Muffled groans sounded in the corner of the dingy squat, as the sunlight finally enveloped the whole room. Other shuffling noises joined in with the sound of pure agony.

"I do believe I just died inside." Said a female, raspy voice. From the corner, a small figure started to rouse, getting to her knees slowly. She suddenly pitched forward, dry heaving as the contents of her liquid dinner last night started to rise, she forced them down painfully, but it was like an acid was making its way down her chest.

"If only we were all so lucky, Scout." Said a definitely male voice from the other side of the room. "Go home chica, your mommy's waiting."

"My momma hates me." Said the younger voice happily, standing up shakily once the need to throw up passed. She walked along the wall carefully, stepping around empty beer bottles and God knows what else. She was scarily short in stature, barely five feet, this squat wasn't suitable a place for whatever young age she appeared to be. The sun still shone in, casting shadows on the wall, but the girl's features were cast in darkness.

"Hurry home, it's 8:30."

"Shit." Swore the small figure harshly, still making her way to the room's exit, "I'm late, and they're going to kill me." Slightly stumbling, she pulled open the door, letting sunlight fill the room. Groans came from every direction, and it looked like the remnants of a party that got out of hand.

"Hurry home." Was the last voice she heard, as 'Scout' half walked, half crawled down the street. It was too early for danger, too late for any fifteen year old to be dragging their selves home. What did I get myself into? She cursed silently, walking with her head down and shoulders high. A shaky hand reached into her coat pocket, pulling out a packet of smokes.

No, can't smell like that when I get home. She initially thought, but then laughed to herself, stopping in front of a store's window and gazing at her dishevelled appearance. An instinctive hand went up to her hair, where loose auburn curls were knotted and clumped together. Her pale complexion looked pastier than normal, and her face was unpleasantly scrunched out to keep out as much sunlight as possible. Her shirt, her new one mind you, was dirty and stained, and her tights had one huge run down the side.

Well, at least I still have my boots. She laughed out loud to the empty street; it was better than last time. She only hoped that last night was worth everything she'd have to go through today.

* * *

"Pooooookie."

The voice sounded distant, and it was accompanied by a light pressure on her chest. Slowly but surely, sunlight filled the simple yet tastefully decorated room, and Joanne Jefferson returned from her dream world.

The voice over her cackled slightly, leaning down so soft hair tickled Joanne's face. "I was wondering how long it would take to get you up." Tender lips met Joanne's, and she smiled into the somewhat chaste kiss.

"Maureen, you know I have a meeting today with an important client." Joanne murmured, moving deft hands over her lover's body and under her shirt. How simple it would be throw everything to the wind and indulge in her pleasures. Unfortunately, that's not what kept the paychecks rolling in.

Maureen laughed happily again, this time a bit louder and more boisterous. She was pleased, "It's ok, I woke you up early." Joanne barely had time to conceal a smile before she turned the tables and rolled over to be on top of her lover.

"You woke me up early?" She murmured, nuzzling Maureen's neck and planting small kisses along her collarbone. "But you know how much I need my beauty sleep." She let a free hand wander over her lover's body before it rested on her left breast.

" Are you going to punish me then, Ms Harvard Lawyer?" Maureen chocked out while sensations washed over her in waves of pleasure, she tugged at Joanne's pyjama top and the roaming hands paused to allowed it over her head.

"Depends how you define the word." Joanne kissed her way down Maureen's stomach and pushed the thin fabric of panties aside. Happily, she started to give her lover a great start to the day as Maureen's soft moans filled the apartment.

* * *

"Aw crap." Said Scout softly; she was around half way home, or to the sad little apartment owned by her adopted parents that she spent less than half of her time in. The nauseous feeling in her stomach was quickly becoming unbearable, and she could hold down her liquid dinner no longer. Luckily, the street was mostly deserted and she made a quick getaway down a dead end alley.

It was burning her stomach, and her heart, and her throat. As her body expelled the wicked alcohol leftovers, Scout winced at the horrible taste bile left in her mouth. She was left gasping for breath at the end of her purging session. She quickly stumbled away and pressed up against the cool concrete. She was exhausted and her body temperature was thrown completely out of wack.

This is what you get for a night of partying, she quietly berated herself. And look! You can't even remember most of it. She groaned, as quick flashes of the night before appeared from her memory. The drinking, smoking…more drinking.

"I am going to die a very young person." She grumbled, finally standing up on very shaky legs. She took a few steps to measure how she could hold out and then continued down the alley, wiping her mouth and spiting to the side.

As she continued walking down the street, shopkeepers had appeared to open stores and the homeless on benches and sidewalks began to rouse.

"A bit early to be out, eh lovely?" Someone called out. Scout looked towards the voice and shuddered involuntarily at the black gummed, dirty man that was calling out to her. She wrapped her arms around herself protectively and continued walking, auburn head down and shoulders still remaining high.

" I'm just saying that the young 'uns should stay inside, is all." She continued walking.

I'm not young, she thought. That's a term for the innocent, a term that I gave up long ago. I'm fifteen now, only four feet and eleven inches, but fifteen years old nonetheless.

She twirled once in the streets and shivered against the cold, it was time to return to her hopefully empty apartment.

* * *

Yes, that was slow I realize, but I needed to start somewhere right? Please review! It would make me very happy as I try to plan the rest of this story out. 


	2. Woes of a Divorce Lawyer

Ok, well this idea came to me while I was trying to figure out how to continue the story. I wrote the first chapter on a whim, but I hopefully I'll be able to please everyone with the rest. So…I have my Pepsi! Annnnnd, I'm done exams for this week. Therefore, it's time to write!

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters that have appeared in RENT.

* * *

"Maureen! Do you know where I left my tie?" Joanne cursed under her breath as she searched around the kitchen. She had already checked all around the house, but then again her lover had this annoying habit of throwing things everywhere and anywhere.

"You mean this old thing, Pookie?" Joanne turned around and found the subject of her current thoughts leaning suggestively on the doorframe. Holding, of course, Joanne's Black Watch tie.

"Honeybear, you know I love you, but I'm late already. Important clients, remember?" Joanne grabbed her coat and bag on the way to Maureen and plucked the tie out of her hands. She sighed at the pout Maureen was wearing on her bright red lips, giving them a quick kiss. "I'll see you tonight, I promise." She sighed and pulled away, heading towards the apartment door, silently cursing work and important clients.

"Don't you dare be late, Pookie!" Maureen's loud voice sounded after her, and Joanne smiled and waved over her shoulder before closing the door. Quickly running down the metal stairs, Joanne checked her watch again and slightly winced when she saw the time. Yes, she was running late, and Joanne hated being late.

She burst through the doors and out onto the sidewalk, thanking any gods that her office building wasn't too far away. Indeed, five minutes of speed walking later she was talking casually to her secretary and barely making it into her office before her clients walked through the glass doors.

She sat down quickly and pretended to be immersed in some paperwork. A man cleared his throat above and she looked up, feigning surprise. "Oh, Mr and Mrs MacCallum, please have a seat. I have all your papers right here finalizing the divorce, are there any other issues you have to work out before we're done?"

The ex-couple sat down and shared an uncomfortable look. "Well, there is one problem we haven't really breeched yet…" Joanne braced herself inside; she was hoping this would be an open-and-shut case. "It's our daughter." Mrs MacCallum blurted out, a slight blush covering her tan features. "Well, our adopted daughter actually. Today we wanted her to be here; since we're letting her choose which one of us she wants to live with. The thing is, she never came home last night."

Joanne's eyebrows raised, the MacCallum's were a very politically correct couple and she failed to see how a mother could casually announce her daughter was missing. Apparently, Mrs MacCallum read her thoughts. "Oh no, I mean, she's done this before." She took a deep breath and straightened her dress automatically. "She's a bit of a problem child…I'm ashamed to say this happens often. Her sneaking out, I mean. But she's not dead…"

" Though I wouldn't be surprised if she was…kid keeps getting into a lot of bad stuff, if you know what I mean."

"Rod!" Mrs MacCallum scolded quietly, shooting a venomous look his way. She sighed again and continued her little story, "Once we're done with the divorce, I'm moving to Florida."

"And I'm going upstairs to Canada, heard they have this awesome dish there called 'poutine'." Rod interrupted, stroking the arms of his chair absentmindedly.

"Anyway," his wife continued, "we just decided about the whole moving thing, and she doesn't know yet. So it's going to be quite the surprise." She laughed nervously, eyes flitting around the small office space.

All this time Joanne had been nodding her head, but she really had no idea what was going on. So much for her simple divorce case. "Ok, so let's get this straight. You two are leaving New York, to go to Florida and someplace in Canada. And the only issue you haven't settled is the fact that your adopted daughter has to choose which parent to go with. But you conveniently forgot to tell her you were moving, and since she snuck out of the house last night you have no idea where in this city she is."

The ex-couple nodded vigorously. "Well, actually she could be somewhere out of this city, it's happened before."

"Rod!"

Joanne managed to give her clients a weak smile, even though she felt like diving over her desk and strangling both of them. No adoption agency should have ever given these blundering idiots a child, she seethed inside. It was going to be a long, long day.

* * *

A few minutes away, one very tired girl was stumbling up the stairs to a rich looking house. I'm so screwed, I'm so screwed, she was repeating over and over in her head. Looking down at her watch, she noticed the late hour and had a nagging feeling she had forgotten something yet again.

Cursing silently, she used her house key, which she had somehow managed to not lose that night, to open the huge French doors. She prepared herself for the riot act and opened to mouth to yell for her parents. Well, technically they weren't her parents. "Rod! Lisa! I'm home!"

She froze inside the doorframe, waiting for the sound of some movement in the house. Her heart was pounding as a creepy feeling made it's way up her spine. She nearly jumped ten feet into the air when the house alarm went off beside her. Sighing in relief and rushed over and punched in the correct code. So, her parents weren't home, that was a bit strange.

Shaking off her boots, she made her way down the marble hallway and into the spotless, stainless steel filled kitchen. Looking around, a new note on the fridge caught her attention.

_Gone to lawyers._

"Shit!" She swore, dashing madly out of the kitchen, that's what she had completely forgotten about! For some strange reason, her adopted parents had wanted her to witness them making their divorce final or something. She ran to the doorway, fairly sure how to get to the lawyer's office, then she caught sight of herself in a full length mirror and skidded to a halt.

If possible, she looked worse than before, even if the wind had whipped some colour into her pasty white face. She swore again, screaming out profanities as she ran upstairs to her room, taking the stairs two at a time. I have to make a good impression, I have to make a good impression, she thought wildly, pulling out clothes from her drawers.

Five minutes later she had found some jeans that were only torn at the knees, and a 'modest-enough' purple sweater. Some mint gum was found to clean her breath of that awful beer smell, and a quick run through with her brush separated the auburn curls around her face. Finally, some cover-up fixed the dark circles around her eyes and some clear gloss for her lips.

Then, she was off, running through the streets of New York while dodging businessmen, the homeless and dogs. Why did I even try to make myself pretty? She thought angrily, pouting her plump lips, she had pulled off the puppy-dog look since the first adopted family she could remember. Finally, she reached her destination, or at least she hoped. Taming her curls once more, she entered the quiet lobby and felt instantly out of place as the secretary looked at her strangely.

"Hi…" Scout started off shyly, but then spotted two people behind glass doors. She grinned. Yes! She had found them. Happily she walked straight passed the secretary and into the lawyer's office, which just happened to be Joanne's.

"Lisa, Rod, how nice of you to leave me that note." She announced happily, bursting through the doors and throwing herself down on the extra seat in the room.

What the hell? Thought Joanne, confused. She looks…she looks exactly like Maureen.

* * *

Haha, yes well I suppose that could qualify as a 'cliff-hanger', but I'll try and update again really soon. Soo, I have no idea where this story is going, or if it's any good. So if you could review with some constructive criticism or suggestions for the story it would be really appreciated. I'd just like to point out also, that this chapter is longer than the first one. So ha! Improvement there… Oh, one more thing, I didn't know what kind of lawyer Joanne was, since I don't think it was ever really specified. So I made her a divorce lawyer, and if you don't like it…well it's my story for a reason then isn't it?

Katie…out! (Poutine rocks!)


	3. Bohemian Life for Me

Hello everyone, look! It's another chapter! Wow, surprise surprise there, especially since it's during exam time. Well have fun with it lovelies. And please reviews. (Thank you to those who have already! Seriously, three reviews and I'm already getting all starry-eyed.)

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone that has appeared in RENT.

* * *

"Sc…Scout!" Mrs MacCallum exclaimed nervously, looking around to see if anyone had noticed their adopted daughter's flamboyant entrance. "How nice of you to…make it. This is our divorce lawyer, Ms Jefferson."

Scout stopped her gruelling task of picking stray auburn hairs from her lip gloss long enough to direct a smile at Joanne. "Hi, nice to meet you."

Joanne's insides were screaming as she thought about how little of Maureen's past she really knew. "Um, hi, likewise." Wait, Maureen was only twenty-five, and how old was this girl? Maybe around thirteen or something, so she definitely wasn't her illegitimate lovechild…

"Sweetie, we have something to discuss with you. The reason we wanted you here, actually." Mrs MacCallum glared at her husband who was still there sitting in the armchair looking very uncomfortable. "We've both decided that New York has too many bad memories for us, and we'd like to move somewhere else after the divorce."

There was silence in the room as all occupants waited for the reaction, even Joanne felt herself leaning slightly forward in her chair.

"You're…what?" All humour was gone from Scout's face.

"Well, I wanted to go to Florida." Mrs MacCallum rambled on nervously, still glaring daggers at her husband. "And your father wanted to go to…Canada." Taking one look at her adopted daughter's face she could tell this wasn't what she wanted to hear. "I know it's sudden darling, but think of how good it will be for you. New friends, a new chance at life."

"You're saying I messed up my life?" Scout glared accusingly, standing up from her seat.

"No! No! Please sit down and let's discuss this. Then you can choose who you'd like to stay with and we'll be able to sort this out in better detail at home." She looked over at Joanne desperately. It was all Joanne could do to just nod and not burst out in laughter. This girl, this Scout, was rapidly getting redder and redder in the face, as if she was holding in a severe temper tantrum. What a diva, she thought, but then she was immediately reminded of Maureen. There was too much of a coincidence, Maureen and this girl had to be related somehow.

"Actually, I think I'm done here." Said Scout coldly, all anger dissolving quickly into indifference. "I'll be waiting at 'home'." She punctuated the last word with two air quotation marks. Flicking her auburn curls over one shoulder; she pranced out of Joanne's office just as suddenly as she had burst in, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.

"Problem child, we know." Rod, Mr MacCallum, finally spoke up. " I knew it the first day at the agency, but unfortunately Scout managed to snare Lisa over there."

"Oh, you're such a martyr! She's your daughter too, you know!"

"If you don't mind me asking, how long have you been…Scout's parents?" Joanne asked, trying her conceal her real interest.

"Well, we adopted her a year ago from a center in the city. She's never been out of New York before, and supposedly she was born here. Scout doesn't remember much about her childhood, she's been in the system for ten years now." And if sensing Joanne's confusion about her adopted daughter's name, Mrs MacCallum added one last thing, "Oh, and Scout's not her name, you know. Her real one anyway, but no one knew what it really was and Scout likes to call herself that…" She punctuated the sentence with a shrug.

"Alright then." Joanne said, itching to end the meeting. "Why don't we just fill out all the forms that don't involve your daughter, and then we'll schedule another meeting once you've had the chance to talk things out with Scout."

And so the woes of a certain divorce lawyer continued, but by then she had no idea about how complicated her life was about to become.

* * *

"Arggg!" Several pigeons fled at the loud scream, and even more pedestrians turned to gawk. The small girl jumped up and down a few times, held her breath until her face was beet red and finally stomped her feet until all the negative energy was out of her. "Well," Scout said happily, " at least I got that out of my system."

And with that she started sprinting down the sidewalk, since there was no telling how long Rod and Lisa could be talking to that lawyer. Deep inside, she had made up her mind as soon as the word 'move' came into the picture. There was no way she was leaving New York; there was no way she physically could. Looking back, it was the only thing that remained constant during her short life fraught with different parents and situations.

"Mom wouldn't want me to go." Scout murmured under her breath, opening the door to her current household. She paused for a moment after kicking off her boots, looking around the pristine hallways and into the tastefully decorated rooms; she realized that this was never home for her. She had never really had a home.

"Bohemian's life for me." She whispered, a small smile forming on her lips as she accepted the decision that she had already made. Running up the stairs she flung open the door to her room, not evening bothering to cast a glance around. Out of the closet came a duffel bag and a backpack, and from numerous places around the room came cloths, jewellery and whatever money she could dig up. Finally, Scout stuffed a battered looking stuffed bear into the backpack.

"Goodbye room." She sighed, turning off the lights and running back downstairs. She had already spent too long in the house and Lisa and Rod could be home any second. She pulled on a warm, woollen coat, a hat and some gloves. Before setting the alarm once again and closing the door on her previous life. Something told her it would be a while until her adopted parents finally realised she was gone for good, but maybe it was better that way.

Now, the question was where to go. As Scout walked down the sidewalk, she was confronted harshly with reality. She was a fifteen-year-old orphan, who looked around twelve, measuring four feet and eleven inches and weighing in at 98 pounds. Life had dealt her a pretty sucky hand. Sighing, she noticed that her feet had automatically lead her where it had all began, Central Park, the place her real mother had left her ten years ago.

Head down and half dragging, half carrying the duffel bag, Scout sat down heavily on an empty bench. What had she gotten herself into? Looking defeated she stared pensively at apparently nothing until the sound of her stomach rumbling interrupted her reverie. Damn, she thought, putting one hand on her rebelling mid-section. It had been a while since she knew the feeling of being genuinely hungry. It was just then that she noticed a strange guy, with pale skin just like hers, filming her with an old camera.

"Hi," she asked hesitantly, "can I help you with something?"

A surprised blue eye peaked up from the camera lens, and the pale skin around his face quickly turned to a slightly red colour. "I'm sorry." He said, putting the camera under his arm. "I sometimes forget the people I'm filming are actually real and not just…on film." He looked embarrassed. "Sorry, you just seemed like a good subject to be caught on tape."

Scout flushed a bit also and giggled, oh how she did love being the center of attention. "It's fine, I'm flattered really."

The guy gave her a weird look. "I'm Mark, Mark Cohen. And you look a lot like someone I know." He said, holding out his hand. "Aren't you a little young to be here alone by the way? You should go home."

Scout sniffed, "I'm fifteen you know, just a tad short for my age. And I don't think I have a home anymore." She looked down distractedly for a few seconds before coming back to life with a small smile on her face. "I'm Scout, by the way." She said, shaking the offered hand.

"Well Scout, even I could hear your stomach on film. I know this place called the Life Café, wanna go?" He paused, seemingly a bit nervous. "I promise I'm not a serial killer…um…really."

"Sure." She responded, laughing at his awkwardness and sliding off the bench while grabbing her bag. Together, they walked out of the park, leaving the past behind.

"So, do you know a Maureen Johnson?" Mark asked.

"Nope, never heard of her."

* * *

Hehe, I thought that was a good place to end. So the story is moving along nicely, and as I'm writing this I'm really supposed to be studying for my science exam. But that's ok! Since science is my last exam and then I'll be free to write during the Christmas break. Thank goodness! Anyway, please review. (: That would be really nice of you in this wonderful season of good cheer and all that jazz. Hopefully in the next chapter more of the RENT cast will be introduced! 


	4. Lunch at Life

Merry Christmas everyone! It wasn't so merry for me, since my aunt had a heart attack on Christmas Eve, but she's supposedly doing much better now. Once again, thanks for the review, **Meqhann**. You may have noticed that I changed the rating of this story from Mature to Teen; I had originally posted it as M-rated since there was a very small sex scene in the first chapter. But since I'm planning out more and more of the plot, there's going to be a bit of kissing and such but no extremely graphic stuff. Therefore I think people thirteen and over can handle what I'm coming up with. Justification much? Hehe, well I'll end this very long AN and say, enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters that have appeared in RENT.

* * *

The door to the Life Café opened with a loud bang, much louder than the pitiful little bell ringing from above. Temporarily, all eyes in the establishment were on Mark and Scout, and it made her feel terribly exposed and awkward. Suddenly, she feared that one of her parents friends might be sitting down enjoying a coffee. A feeling that didn't quite fade, even when all the curious eyes went back to what they were previously doing.

"Come on." Mark encouraged her, making his way to an empty table with two seats, which was in the far corner. Relieved, Scout almost ran after him clutching her duffel bag for dear life and glaring at everyone around them with distrust. They both sat down and Scout made herself comfortable.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Scout asked suddenly, eyeing Mark with something between suspicion and genuine curiosity. He shrugged and starting playing with his camera,

"Well the fact that you didn't think I was some kind of freak for filming you for no reason says a lot about your character." He joked, his light blue eyes twinkling happily. "Besides, like I said, you reminded me of someone I know. Now you're sure you've never heard of Maureen Johnson right? 'Cause the resemblance is really uncanny."

Scout scrunched up her nose and tried to remember all the Maureen's she had ever known. That had been her third foster mother's name. Or was it the fourth? Oh, who knew, and who really cared anyway? She was now her own woman. "Nope, like I said, never heard of her. It's probably one of the universe's strange little tricks. Believe me, the universe is quite fond of messing up my life." She laughed, but it sounded forced even to her own ears.

Mark grinned as if he knew what she was feeling. Picking up his camera, he trained the lens on her and started filming. "December 4th, 1991, a new little bohemian is in our midst." He looked at her from over the camera. "Please state your name." He said in mock seriousness. Scout laughed,

"My name's Scout, it's not my real one but no one knows what that is." She leaned forward in her seat grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "'Cept for me of course, but I'm not tellllllingg."

"Uh huh, so Scout, why don't you tell the camera and the people who will probably never watch this video, what…hobbies you have?"

"Doing tequila shots!" Scout erupted, laughing crazily and drawing attention to their little side of the room. Her laughter continued for a good while, while Mark just watched, bemused. "Sorry." She said when finally the giggles subsided. "It's true though, since I don't really have any hobbies, it probably stems from the fact that I have no talent."

"Don't talk like that." Mark said, suddenly very serious and not joking. "Everyone has a talent, you just need to find out what yours is." Scout grinned at him, trying to banish the tone the conversation was talking.

"Perhaps you're right, Mark. But then again, I can do four tequila shots _without_ fainting. All my friends think it's a miracle, considering my body weight. Then again, I only did it once…and I never told them about fainting five minutes later in the alleyway outside…" They both shared a laugh, Mark not realizing how serious Scout was being. Before he could question her further however, another voice sounded from behind Scout.

"Well well, Mark being entertained by someone other than his camera? I'd never thought I'd see the day."

"Oh, go to hell, Roger." Mark said, gently putting his camera on the table and addressing the man with shaggy blond hair and piercing green eyes. Scout could tell he wasn't really affected by the teasing that seemed to have an affectionate tone. "Shouldn't you be out with Mimi somewhere?"

"Maureen dragged her out to go shopping since Joanne has to deal with some 'important clients'."

"Yuppies…" Mark and Roger both muttered under their breath as Scout stared at them, amused. Roger grabbed a chair from a nearby table, ignoring the annoyed glance he was getting from the manager, and sat down at their small table. "So have you ordered yet…?" Roger started, only to finish abruptly when he first caught sight of Scout's face. He stared, and Scout was in the process of turning a very unattractive red.

"Oh umm…Roger this is Scout. We were just ordering something…" Mark said, clearly fighting back laughter as he ducked behind his camera again. Scout, however, had no such luxury and tried not to act awkward under Roger's gaze.

"Hi?" She offered weakly, luckily Roger seemed to snap out of his little trance.

"Holy shit!" He swore loudly, attracting disapproving glances from around them. "She's like a mini-Maureen."Scout scrunched up her nose, again with this Maureen! She didn't know whom she was, and was starting to resent the very idea of meeting her.

"Yes so I've heard." She said dryly. They were interrupted by a nervous waitress who, armed with a small notepad, had come to take their orders.

"Hey, what can I get ya'll?"

Roger mumbled something about not being hungry, while Mark just settled on a small tea. Scout, however, was starving and eyed all the items on the menu hungrily. Unfortunately, the reality that she would have to pay for this meal herself brought a damper on the situation. Don't think about that, she reasoned with herself, at least now you're independent and free of stupid foster parents. Finally, she settled on a hotdog. Her 'favourite food ever in the whole universe'.

"Maureen hates hotdogs." Roger said surprised, causing Mark and Scout to roll their eyes and exchange amused glances.

"Well then, further proof that I'm not Maureen." Scout stated smoothly, giving Roger a small smile that was supposed to be pitying. She had, however, succeeded in breaking the ice at the small table and the trio talked and joked throughout the meal. When conversation calmed down, a good two hours later, and the dinner crowd had started to enter the café, Mark asked a question that was certainly not expected.

"Where are you planning to stay tonight?"

Scout was caught off guard for a second, as she had run away in a hurry without planning essential details. Roger eyed her suspiciously, as though he had just figured out it wasn't completely normal for a girl to be out eating with total strangers, one of whom she had just met in a park a couple hours earlier.

"Wait a minute…" He started, "Where do you live anyway?"

"I don't really live anywhere, per say." Scout mumbled, blushing just a bit. "I ran away."

Mark shrugged when Roger shot him a look, "So you live on the streets, and then some random guy came up and asked you to eat with him…and you actually went?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much it. 'Cept he was filming me when I first saw him." Roger just shook his head while Scout looked mildly insulted. "He gives off good vibes!"

Mark just shook his head. "I'm going to take that as a compliment. Anyway, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by Roger, if you don't have anywhere to go you're welcome to stay at the loft with Roger and I."

"And after lunch, he invites you over to 'his place'. Honestly Mark, you're a fucking pervert!" Roger exploded. This caused several people in the café to look over, mouths wide open, especially the manager, who looked ready to march right over and kick them out of the establishment. Scout sank into her seat, willing herself to melt into a puddle. Mark had turned completely red, mumbling something about God and the absence of Roger's soul.

Scout was weighting the pros and cons of staying with Mark heavily. She would probably end up crashing at Rick's, the guy whose apartment she had passed out in last night while seriously drunk. Of course, if she did, there was good chance she would be waking up in the same hung-over condition tomorrow morning. However, if Mark was some kind of strange pedophile, it wouldn't exactly be a great choice to have a little sleepover. At least at Rick's she woke up alive…if with a few less brain cells.

"Thanks Mark," she finally said, "but I was planning on staying with a friend for tonight. Actually, I should get going." She stood up, grabbing the rest of her stuff and shooting the boys a small smile. "Perhaps I'll see you around."

With that, she walked out of the café, Roger and Mark mumbled something like a goodbye and then went back to their discussion. Scout didn't know that she had just made a choice that would change her life, but she was likely to realize it sooner rather than later.

* * *

Ok, was that a cliffhanger? Hehe, not really, but since I loathe them with a passion I thought I'd save all you people reading. Well Scout's met three of the bohos, so there's only three more to go. Since this is a post RENT fic, I suppose Angel would have to be dead. Of course, I could go all AU on you people and keep her alive since she's my favourite character. What do you think? I suppose you'll just have to review and tell me. Mwhaha. 


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